Playing With Fire
by Aint It Fun
Summary: Merle Dixon never needed anyone. Neither did Harlow Dalton. But when the world goes to shit, all bets are off.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_

_Well...here it is! My Merle Dixon story. TaDa! Hope you guys enjoy it. I've worked my butt off on this for the past couple of weeks and have a pretty in depth, kick-ass story to give you. I think anyways ;). I had help, so you can thank my friend Alicia for helping to make this happen. Couple of quick things! This story is eventually going to crossover with Life I Left Behind. You can read them together, or separate...I suggest reading them both though. Also...it's told from alternating views between Merle and my OFC Harlow. So my Merle's scenes are vulgar and super inappropriate so don't be offended. If you are, look elsewhere. Lastly...this is not going to have a fairy tale ending. Other than that, I give to you my newest baby: Playing With Fire!_

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******Merle**  


God damn, that sun was fuckin' hot. I swore I could feel myself cookin, like meat on a griddle. I squinted my eyes and looked up at the sky. Sweat dripped down the sides of my face and neck, my shirt stickin' to my back. If I spent any more time out here, I'd shrivel up and dry out like a god damn raisin. Too bad I wasn't goin' anywhere anytime soon. I looked back at my wrist. It was still handcuffed tight to a metal pipe that ran the length of the roof top. God damn that black jackass for droppin' the key. Son of a bitch probably did it on purpose. Probably because I shoved that gun in his face. People were so damn sensitive these days.

Behind me I could still hear the door rattlin' on its hinges. That chain wasn't gonna keep those walkers stuck inside forever. Sooner or later it'd break and then there'd be nothin' stoppin' 'em from tearin' me to bits. Fuck those assholes for leavin' me here. That was low, even by Merle standards. When I got off this roof, they'd better hope and pray that I was too tired to kill 'em all. The snarlin' behind the door seemed to get louder. I looked down at the handsaw, glintin' in the sunlight near my feet. Wasn't sharp enough to cut through the chain. But I'd bet it was plenty sharp to cut through somethin' else…good thing I was just crazy enough to do what needed to be done. I could live without two hands. I'd be damned, though, if I went out like this. Handcuffed to a fuckin' roof and torn to bits by those hungry geeks. Nasty bastards. I'd show 'em. It ain't that easy to get rid of Merle.

So I took off my belt and tied it tight around my arm, gritted my teeth, and pressed those sharp little blades against my skin. It was pain beyond pain. It rocked through me, washin' over me but I refused to let it take me under. It was a good thing I was one tough son of a bitch or this never would've worked. As soon as I got back to that damn camp, I was gonna take the hand I had left and wrap my fingers around Officer Friendly's throat. I tried not to think too hard 'bout what I was doin', just moved the saw back and forth, back and forth until there was one last taut stretch of sinewy skin.

Suddenly, I was free. The handcuff was left danglin' on the pipe and I was on the ground, writhin' in a warm, sticky pool of my own blood. My breath was comin' in short, heavy gasps as I struggled to try to control the pain that had wrapped itself around me and was draggin' me down. Holy fuckin' shit. I did it, though. I cut off my own god damn hand. I could almost feel the blood tryin' to rush outta me. I forced myself into a sittin', position and tightened the tourniquet around my arm.

The world felt like it was spinnin'. It was hard to focus on anythin' besides how much it hurt. It was unlike anythin' I had ever felt before and ever wanted to feel. Even through all that, though, I could still heard those damn walkers. Still screamin' and growlin' as they tried to get to me. Probably could smell a drop of blood the way sharks could in an ocean.

"Jesus god damn Christ." The words rushed out of me in a strangled sort of whisper as I struggled to my knees and tried to stand.

The corners of my vision were startin' to get all dark, my breathin' still too labored. I took one last look at my hand, lyin' on the concrete before staggerin' to the side of the roof and lookin' down. And it sure as hell was a long way to the ground. No ledges, no fire escapes, no any god damn thing that might make it a little easier to get the hell off this shitty roof. I spun back around to face the door. Guess my only choice was to face down those ugly sons of bitches one handed. I almost grinned. Man, if Daryl coulda seen me now…even that son of a bitch woulda been impressed.

I ignored the pain as best I could, though it was radiatin' up and down my arm and spreadin' through me like a wildfire. I knelt near the spilled tool box that had been left behind and picked up a heavy lookin' wrench. I tested its weight in my hand. Felt about as good as anything. Definitely good enough for smashin' through a few skulls.I felt my vision startin' to swim again, those damn black spots dancin' in front of my eyes. I shook it off. I had shit to do.

The roof door rattled as the walkers stuck on the other side tried to push their way through. The chain looked about ready to snap, the door wedged open by a good foot and a half wide gap. I could see the snarlin', nasty faces of the geeks on the other side. Weren't nearly as many as I thought there were. At least I had that goin' for me. I shoved my arm through and raised up the wrench before bringin' it down hard on the geek's skull. I felt it shatter into pieces before the thing dropped to the floor. I wrestled with the chain on the door before I finally got it off and shoved it the rest of the way open. A walker came barrelin' out and I side stepped it just in time as it stumbled past me. I didn't give it time to recover, duckin' inside the building and pullin' the door shut tight behind me. I whirled around and rammed my shoulder into the two remainin' walkers, pushin' 'em down the stairs. I finished 'em off with the wrench.

I stopped to try and catch my breath. I cradled the stump of my arm into my chest, all mangled skin, tendons, and bone. The tourniquet would only do so much. I knew what I really needed to do was find a way to close it up as best I could. If I didn't, I was basically just beggin' to bleed out or get an infection and Jesus knows I didn't cut my hand off to die from some sort of pathetic gangrene thing. Not Merle. The clangin' sound of footsteps on metal stairs snapped me back to the present. There were more walkers comin'. I could hear them snarlin' and growlin' as they pushed up the stairs. I knew what I needed to do now anyways. I'd spent enough time in prison and fought enough fights to figure it out. It wasn't gonna be pretty though.

I took the door that led to the floor below the roof, comin' out into one of those fancy department stores. Not that it was all that much to look at now, havin' been ransacked and nearly picked clean by looters. I shoved my way through the half empty clothing racks, tryin' to ignore the burnin', throbbin' pain that was swallowin' up my entire arm. I finally came out onto an aisle way, lookin' for anything at all that could point me in the right direction. Instead, I came face to face with another walker. It's clothes hung off it in moldy, shredded rags and it's skin was peeling away to reveal the yellowed, decaying skull underneath. It lunged at me with it's skeleton arms but I didn't give it a chance to grab hold of anything, bringing down the wrench on the top of it's head with a satisfying crunch. It crumpled to the floor and I stumbled back a few steps, catchin' myself on a half-dressed mannequin. It was gettin' harder and harder to catch my breath, each one I drew in soundin' more ragged and forced than the one before. I didn't feel right in the head neither…felt like I was stragglin' through a dream. I made myself keep goin' though. I wound my way through the aisles, keepin' my eyes peeled. I couldn't wait to see the look on those sorry mother fuckers faces when I rolled back into camp. Like I said, It ain't that easy to get rid of Merle.

Good luck seemed to finally catch up with me as I came around the next corner and a cafe came into view. I just hoped like hell they had what I was looking for before my body finally decided to give out one. I slid across the counter and pushed open the swinging door into the back of the tiny cafe. Shards of broken mugs and plates littered the dirty floor and the freezer door hung off the wall on its hinges. The place looked like it had been torn apart either by a horde of walkers or desperate survivors tryin' to find their next meal. The one thing that was left untouched, though, was the gas stove sitting in the corner. Jackpot. I made my way over to it, turning up the burner as high as it would go until it sprang to life, the orange flame dancin' teasingly. I rummaged through the cabinet next to it until I found a metal pan that had been left behind and set it on the burner, waitin' for it to get hot. The idea of pressing the scoldin' hot metal against the nub of my arm almost made even me cringe, but there weren't a whole lot of options left. Wasn't like I could go waltzin' into a hopital and wait for some hot nurse with a tight little body to come fix me up. Damn, wouldn't that be nice though?

I got impatient waitin' for the damn thing to heat up. When it seemed about long enough, though, I took the pan off the stove top and slid down onto the tiled floor, leaning back against the metal cabinet. I held the stub of my arm out in front of me. Good thing I was a lefty. Would've been a shame to lose my jackin' off hand. I gritted my teeth and lowered the pan onto the bone and flesh. The skin sizzled and the smell of burnin' flesh hit my nostrils. I tried to fight the guttural scream that built up inside me, but it finally escaped as my vision began to swim. Everything was fading black. I fought against it hard, but eventually I felt myself sink.


	2. Chapter 2

**Merle**

When I finally came to, it was hard to ignore that I felt like complete shit. Guess that was bound to happen though. Side effect of decidin' to cut one of your own limbs off. I groaned, forcing my eyes open. I was still slumped on the floor in the department store cafe. I straightened myself up, reaching for the pan that must've slipped from my grip when I blacked out. It was still warm which meant I hadn't been out too long. Good. Couldn't waste too much time passin' out and actin' like a damn pussy.

I let out a heavy groan as I forced myself to my feet, staggering a little but catchin' myself on the counter. I leaned back against it, examining the stump of my arm. Wouldn't heal up to be the prettiest thing, but it would have to do. For now, I needed to find a way to get the hell out of here. I picked my wrench back up and left through the cafe swinging door. I headed in the opposite direction I had come from, hoping I'd find something worthwhile. I knew the stairs were out. Last time I checked, the stairwells were packed full of walkers, all crammed in there like sardines until the retards could figure out how to work a fucking door handle. Which really only left me one choice, which was out a window.

That damn familiar sound of a walker, moaning and draggin' it's feet, suddenly caught my ear. I gripped the wrench tighter in my hand and stayed where I was, waitin' for the son of a bitch to come to me. I almost laughed when it finally trudged into my view...mall cop judging by the faded uniform and walkie talkie still clipped to it's belt loop. I froze, though, as my eyes caught sight of somethin' else hangin' on his belt. A gun. A shiny, beautiful mother fucking gun. I needed that. The geek had finally spotted me and was movin' towards me at a pace that could've put me to sleep.

"Come on, you dumb son of a bitch." I taunted it, beckoning it closer.

When its grubby, mangled finger tips were just in reach of me, I brought down the wrench over his skull. It fell and I was feelin' pretty damn triumphant as I unhooked my new toy from its holster. I tucked the wrench into my back pocket anyways. Couldn't leave somethin' that much fun behind.

I stepped over its as I made went on my way. Didn't have to go much farther though before I found a row of windows, a drain pipe perfectly snaking it's way down the wall to the ground below. It looked someone had already had the same idea, the window already shattered, shards of glass still glinting on the ledge. I leaned my head out the window and looked down. It led right down to the street, which also happened to be pretty fuckin' packed with walkers. I wasn't gonna spend any more time trapped in this damn building though. I'd climb down as far as I could, jump, and make a run for it.

I pulled myself up onto the window sill with my good hand, careful not to scuff the stub of my right arm. It was still throbbin' and hurtin' pretty damn bad. Then, I grabbed the drain pipe and swung onto it. I had scaled a drain pipe plenty of times, but never one handed. Didn't stop me...though it took a helluva a lot longer to make the climb down and by the time I was almost to the sidewalk, I was sweatin' bullets and the muscles in my arm ached.

I glanced down at the sidewalk to make sure it was clear before lettin' go and landin' hard on my feet. I stumbled, bracin' myself on the nearest wall. God damn, I felt somethin' awful. A few of the walkers closest by took notice of me. I forced myself to move, takin' off down the street before they even had a chance to reach out their bony hands for me. Now was the easy part...steal a ride and head back to the camp and give all those assholes one hell of a surprise. Bet they thought they left me for dead. A smirk flitted across my lips. Ain't nobody decides when Merle dies but Merle.

I got tired pretty soon though, probably sooner than I should have and had to duck into an alley to catch my breath and think out my plan. None of the cars out on the main road would be any good. Most of 'em were either totalled or already ransacked and not worth the time to try and start. I'd have to try the lesser travelled side streets. I ran a hand over my head. I wondered if they told Daryl what they did to me yet. I wondered what the hell that kid would do once he found it his big brother had been handcuffed to a roof and left to die a slow, agonizin' death. I was sure he'd give 'em a piece of his mind. Then when I'd got back, I'd help him. Startin' with that damn Officer Friendly and his deputy butt buddy. Then I'd take their weapons and split. Daryl and I were too good for those shitheads anyways. Couldn't tell their own heads from a hole in the ground.

I pushed myself away from the wall, gettin' ready to bolt back out into the street. I pulled out the gun from the waistband of my pants, switching the safety off. Might feel kinda good to blow off some walkers' heads today. Hell, I think I deserved it. I turned out of the alley and took off, weavin' my way in and out of cars and walkers, headed for the parts of town I knew to be less packed with geeks. Atlanta was a big ass place. I knew there was a vehicle of some type out there waitin' for me. I kept sprintin' until the crowds of walkers began to thin out more and more until there was nothin' but a few stragglers here and there. The only reason I knew my way around was because of how much time Daryl and I had spent here when the outbreak first started...his ass had dragged me all the way here in search of some fuckin' neighbor girl he had always wanted to bone but never got the chance to. We never found her, but I did learn my way around the city pretty damn well.

I finally felt like it was safe enough to slow down to a walk. I was in what I was sure once had been thought of as the more run down part of town, even back in the days before the world had gone to shit. Now, it was just even more shittier to look at with all the garbage and trash lyin' around everywhere. Like I had guessed, though, there were still a handful of cars parked up and down the street that had long been left behind by whoever. I would just have to check each one and maybe I'd get lucky. I decide to start with the rusted red Toyota with the twenty-five Jesus lovin' bumper stickers plastered all over the back. Typical, the doors were all locked which just made me wonder why the hell this dumbass thought anyone would wanna steal this piece of crap.

I sighed as I rubbed the back of my neck, debating on whether or not it was worth breakin' the window to get in. I highly doubted somethin' as shitty as this had an alarm, but did I really wanna take the chance that there was? Then every single walker in a five mile radius would come staggerin' over here and I'd be all the way back to square one. I aimed a resentful kick at the tire before deciding to try another car before breaking any windows.

I moved on to the car parked behind it. It was even junkier than the first one, a dirty lookin' tan color with a different colored hood. Even had those damn gay ass fuzzy lookin' dice in the window. I shook my head, before tuggin' at the handle. It opened right up.

"Hell fuckin' yeah!" I said gleefully, ducking inside the car.

I set the gun down on the seat as I started messin' around, looking in all the usual places for the keys. Not that it mattered. I learned how to hotwire a car when I was eight years old. Piece of fuckin' cake, although maybe it would be harder with only one hand. I'd find out sooner or later. I stopped what I was doing, though, when I heard somethin' movin' around outside the car. God damn walkers, always gettin' in the damn way. I moved out of the car and grabbed the gun from the seat before crouchin' down near the front tire. All I could hear were slow, deliberate footsteps as they headed in my direction. I decided to get the jump on the thing and get rid of it before it wasted any more of my time.

My finger itched to pull the trigger as I rolled out from behind the car and pointed my gun in the direction of the footsteps, right where the walker should have been. Except it wasn't a walker I was facin' down. It was a fuckin' gun.

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Hey guys! Just a quick note here. Things have gotten pretty out of control busy with school so I know for a fact I won't be able to post as often. And when I do post, it will be only be one chapter at a time rather than two chapters. Sorry, I just can't write as much as I used to with school in full swing now. I'm gonna try to get a few more of these Playing With Fire chapters up though! Thanks again for reading! You guys are the best!


	3. Chapter 3

**Merle**

The chick holdin' it looked just about ready to squeeze the trigger and put a bullet in my brain. Her expression suddenly faltered though.

"You gonna pull the trigger, princess, or we just gonna stare at eachother all day?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"Jesus Christ, I could have fuckin' killed you!" She spat, shaking her head. She lowered the gun, giving me a glare. "I thought you were a god damn walker."

"Likewise." I answered, taking in her tiny, slender build. Man, did this check have some legs on her. Not a bad rack either.

"Hey mother fucker, my eyes are up here."

A smirk flitted across my lips. "I know that, sweetheart." I said, takin' my good ole' time travelin' up her body and back to her face which wasn't bad to look at either. "Ain't it kinda dangerous for a woman to be out on her own...ain't you afraid some strangers gonna come along and snatch you up?" I taunted.

She sent me a forced a smile. "I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl."

"Mmhm. You keep tellin' yourself that, princess. Now why don't you get the hell outta here. I'm busy." I said, waving her off as I turned back to the car, ignorin' the poundin' that had suddenly started in my head. Even outta the corner of my eyes, though, I caught the look on her face.

"Holy shit, what the hell happened to your hand?" She asked, eyes wide and mouth gapin'.

"It pissed me off so I set it loose." I grinned.

"You didn't get bit, did you?" She asked cautiously, and I could tell she was just waitin' for me to say yes so she could raise up that gun and blow my god damn head off.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but no. Gonna take a helluva a lot more than one of them geeks to bring ole' Merle down." I said, shootin' her another grin.

"It looks...bad. Maybe you should try to find some help."

I snorted with laughter before gesturin' to the rundown, abandoned buildings and empty street that surrounded us. "Look around, princess. You see any doctors? You see any hospitals? Ain't nobody to get help from. Don't need it anyways." I paused, lickin' my bottom lip before eyein' her up and down. "Unless you wanna stick around and play doctor."

She rolled her eyes, crinklin' her nose in plain ole' disgust. "Not even in your wildest dreams, asshole." She said coldly.

"Well then I guess you better git to movin'. Like I said, I'm busy." I retorted, noddin' my head in the direction she had come from.

"Fine. But I'm telling you with somethin' like that, if you don't get antibiotics or some kinda meds you'll be dead in a week." She said, gesturin' to my arm before tuckin' a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

"You worried about me, princess? Ain't that cute." I chortled, leaning back against the car.

She shot me a glare, takin' a few steps back before turnin' around completely and headin' off back down the sidewalk. I watched she went. Damn, wouldn't it be somethin' to feel those long legs wrapped around my waist? She sure was a taste piece of eye candy.

She threw me a glance over her shoulder and I could almost hear the sigh of disgust as she caught my eyes still lingerin'. "By the way, " She called out. "I'm not a fucking princess!"

I laughed, my shoulders shakin'. Maybe not, but she sure was somethin'. She disappeared around the next corner and I turned my focus back to findin' a way to get the hell of Atlanta.

I went back to diggin' around inside the car and found the key tucked under the visor on the passenger side. My grin was pretty damn big as I climbed inside the car and turned the ignition. The engine roared to life and I let out a holler of happiness. Just enough gas to get me at least half way back to camp. I'd take it.

I reached across the steering wheel with my left hand to put it into drive. That would take some gettin' used to. I glanced down at the end of my right arm, takin' in the charred black layer of film that covered my bone and tendons. It was startin' to hurt pretty bad again. What I wouldn't have given for a strong ass pain killer. Good thing I had enough meds back at camp to run an illegal pharmacy. I'd have to man up till then.I hit the gas pedal and sped off, headed towards the highway.

I was makin' good time. The car was a beater, but drove just fine and still had plenty of time to get back to camp before it was dark. The only thing slowin' me down was the fact that I was feelin' less than alright. Every time I'd hit even the smallest of bumps or did anything to jostle the car, my entire arm felt like it was engulfed in red hot flames. The pain would get so bad, I'd be doubled over in my seat. It'd be a few minutes before I felt okay enough to move again. I kept my foot down on the petal, though. Ain't nothin' was gonna stop me from gettin' where I needed to go.

I started to feel tired and slow. Like I was in some sort of half -awake, half-asleep state. Every now and then a wave of nausea would creep over me and I'd fight it back. It was gettin' hard and harder to ignore the fact that I was in a bad state and it was only gettin' worse. I gripped the wheel tighter in my hand, my knuckles turnin' white. Maybe that chick had been right after all. Hell, maybe I should have played the crippled card with her so she'd take me along wherever she was headed. I wouldn't mind gettin' friendly with that piece of ass. Them long legs and tiny waist...shame she wasn't a blonde, though. I liked blondes. Still, this end of the world shit made it hard to be picky. Had to take whatever ass was handed to you. She was probably a good fuck regardless.

I felt my stomach clench as another wave of nausea rolled through me. I gritted my teeth and fought it. Not hard enough though 'cause next thing I knew I was slammin' on the brakes and throwin' open the car door so I could empty whatever was left in me. Which wasn't much of anything. I had sweated it all out sittin' up on that god damn roof all day.

"Son of a bitch." I groaned, draggin' my torso back into the car. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, leanin' back into the headrest. My eyelids felt heavy like concrete, the world sort of felt like it was movin' even though I knew the car was in park. I pressed the lock down on the car door before pressin' back into my seat and squeezin' my eyes shut. I was out in seconds.

It wasn't the good kind of sleep, though. I kept wakin' up what felt like every couple of minutes. Long enough to feel my arm screamin' with pain and long enough to know that I still felt like shit. So I'd close my eyes and try again. When I woke the third time, it was dark outside the car. I couldn't see a damn thing out the window and hoped like hell a horde of walkers wouldn't come by in the middle of the night and see me thrasin' around inside as I tried to get comfortable and wait out the night. I'd have to try again in the daylight. I was pretty damn sure that by now the others had told Daryl what they'd done to me. There was no fuckin' way they could keep that from him. As soon as I got back, I'd settle my scores and we'd take off. Don't know why we saw fit to join up with another group anyways. We were doin' just fine on our own. Always have done just fine on our own. Dixons didn't need anybody. I tucked the stub of my arm close to my chest and tried to keep still. The less I moved the better. I finally felt myself drift off again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Merle**

The next time I opened my eyes, the sun was rinsin' slowly and everything outside the car windows was set in a dull, yellow glow. I glanced down at my arm where it was still pressed up against my chest. The skin had started to turn a sickly lookin' pink around the edges. It looked swollen and still hurt like a bitch. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so shitty, so weak. As much as I wanted to stay where I was and wait it out, I knew I wouldn't be doin' myself any favors. I needed food at least, and water. Some god damn antibiotics would've been nice but that's not the way the fuckin' end of the world works.

Still tryin' to keep my movements as little as possible, I tried to start the car. The engine whined but wouldn't catch. You had to be fuckin' kiddin' me. I tried again. Same thing. Just a high pitched, pathetic whine. If I had it in me, I would've been beatin' down on the steerin' wheel. It was my own damn fault. Shouldn't have chosen this piece of shit. Should have held out for somethin' better. I pushed open the car door and practically fell out onto the pavement. I straightened myself up, swayin' as I tried to found my footin'. Everythin' still felt like it was tiltin' even though I was standin' still.

I slumped up against the open car door as I looked around me. I had left the highway pretty far behind me the day before and now I was on some long,windin' stretch of road that looked like it led straight to the middle of nowhere. I couldn't tell if it looked familiar or not. Last night I could have sworn I'd been headed in the direction of camp, but now I didn't have a single fuckin' clue. I felt too shitty to be annoyed or frustrated or anythin' really. On one side of me was forest. On the other side was field and two houses, about a half mile of road between them. I tried to judge which one would be the better pick. They both looked about the same, though. Two stories with boarded up windows and doors. I went for the one with the picket fence, though, thinkin' maybe it had a better chance of keepin' out the walkers.

I could feel a cold, damp sweat clingin' to my skin. Each step felt like I was wearin' concrete shoes. It took a lot longer than it should have to reach the farm house, holdin' on tight to the wooden railin' as I pulled myself up the rickety, rottin' stairs and began tuggin' the boards off the front door. It wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be. The wood crumbled in my hands. It was old and no doubt rain and weather had wore it down and until it was mildewy and soft. The smell of mold hit my hard when I finally got inside, swinging the door shut behind me. By the looks of it, the place had been abandoned a long time ago. Probably right at the start of the outbreak. I doubted I'd find water, but I hoped like fuckin' hell they had forgotten to clean out the entire kitchen.

I staggered past the moth eaten carpet in the livin' room, using the walls to hold myself up. The couch was saggin' in a corner and the television set had been knocked over at some point, lyin' face down on the floor surrounded by glass. I finally made it into the kitchen. Yellow flowery wallpaper was peelin' from the walls. An antique lookin' china cabinet had been shoved up against the glass slidin' door. I started throwin' open cabinets and cupboards. It looked like whoever had been here last didn't leave a damn thing behind. I was startin' to think if it would've been a good idea to try and get to the other house I had seen and try my luck there, when I tugged open the last cupboard and saw three gleamin' cans of spagettios sittin' on the shelf.

I grabbed all three, tuckin' 'em into the nook of my arm before movin' back into the livin' room. I so badly wanted to just collapse onto the couch, but the idea of layin' around out in the open for just anyone to walk in and find me put me on edge. I looked up at the stairs and knew that wasn't gonna happen. Walkin' from the car to the house had been hard enough, my lungs workin' much harder than they should've been. Instead, I forced open a door to my left and found myself in a small bathroom. Toilet, bathtub, sink.

I carefully set the cans down on the toilet lid before leanin' over the sink and wipin' the dirt and dust off the mirror with my hand. Man, I even looked like shit. My skin was a chalky white and my eyes looked they were slowly sinkin' into my skull. I looked like I was about a hop and a skip away from passin' as a walker. I slammed my fist into the mirror and it shattered into hundreds of tiny, silvery pieces, showerin' the sink and floor. My hand stung and drops of blood began to run down my palm and over my wrist. It was nothin', though, compared to what I was feelin' in the rest of me.

I stepped into the empty tub before sittin' down, leanin' back and stretchin' my legs out as much as I could. I'd rest here for a while, eat somethin' and then get back to what I had been doin' before. I'd be alright, it wasn't easy to take down Merle.


	5. Chapter 5

**Harlow**

I wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans as I crouched on the pavement, leaning back against the bumper of the beat up pick-up truck. The handle of my knife still felt slippery in my hand as I watched the herd of walkers pass me by. I lost count, but there had to be at least over two dozen of them. I always thought it was so strange how they moved in packs like that, like wild animals. In a way, I guess they were. Always on the hunt for their next meal. Which sure as hell wasn't going to be me.

I should've known it was a bad idea to come this far into the city. Even the outskirts were infested, though not nearly as bad as downtown areas. For some reason, the government had decided it was a good idea to cram everyone into one place to keep safe. Obviously, it backfired on them. All it took was one person getting bit and then the infection was spreading like wildfire. Everyone knew you didn't go into cities unless you were desperate. I wasn't desperate. I was just stupid. At least I was aware of that.

I was passing through on my way south. Didn't really have anywhere specific to go but it was never safe to stay in one place for too long, so I was always moving. I should've went right by Atlanta and stayed on the back roads. But I couldn't stop thinking about my brother. Austin's last apartment had been here before he had gotten deployed. He lived in a high rise on the lower East end and had sub-leased the place to friend while he was stationed in Japan. I couldn't stop myself from wanting to go to his apartment. I knew I wouldn't find anything there. He was gone, still overseas. Dead or alive, I had no way of knowing. The idea of seeing anything that belonged to him, though, was all I could think about.

I never made it there, needless to say. I hadn't gotten very far into the city before I realized what a bad idea it was. The walkers ended up turning me right back around. I had never seen so many of them in one place before. They were packed into the streets almost shoulder to shoulder. Just standing around and waiting. It sent chills down my spine. You never got used to those things walking around. No matter how many times you saw them.

So now here I was, squeezed in between two bumpers of two parked cars waiting to make my grand escape. It was so stupid. I wasted half a day trying to get somewhere that I knew I wouldn't be able to. I shook my head, annoyed with myself. I watched as the last of the walkers trudged past me, dragging their feet. I waited an extra minute longer in case there were any stragglers. When I was finally sure the coast was clear, I booked it. I ran as fast as I could, leaving the dirty, infested streets and crumbling skyscrapers behind me. I didn't stop until I was finally out on the open highway among the graveyard of abandoned cars.

I made my way over to the rusted pick-up parked carefully in the long line of cars. It seemed like as good a place as anything to hide my ride. Right in plain view, but still hidden. Most people stayed away from the highway. Not only because it wasn't safe (herds seemed to like traveling the highways for whatever reason) but because most of the cars had already been syphoned and ransacked back in the early days of the outbreak. Of course, I highly doubted anyone came this close to the city anymore. I hadn't seen anyone for….Wait, I had almost forgotten about that jackass I'd nearly pumped full of bullets the other day. Damn, he was the first face I'd seen in I don't know how long.

I fished the truck keys out of my back pocket before climbing in the cab and starting the engine right up. I carefully pulled out onto the road and pressed down on the pedal, putting as much space between me and that damn city as fast as I could. My mind wandered back to that one handed idiot. He was a perfectly good example of why I chose to stay away from other people. They were reckless and rude. Especially the man. It was like as soon as the world fucking ended, women's right went right along with it. I would say chivalry went with it too, but now that I thought about it, that shit was gone long before the end of the world.

That stump of his had looked pretty bad, though. I hadn't gotten a close look, but I could tell from the black scab that stretched over it that he had cauterized it himself. Wouldn't really help all that much. Sure, it'd stop the bleeding but he probably had already lost too much blood. And if anything, he was going to get infection anyways with it not being bandaged up or anything. Fucking idiot. He was probably dead within the next week. I wrinkled my nose, shaking my head. I'd seen some fucked up shit and I was adding that to the last. You would think having spent the last couple of years as a paramedic that I'd seen everything, but nope. Nothing they teach you there prepares you to watch someone eat another person's intestines. Gross.

I drove until the sun sank and the sky was pitch black, and even then I kept going a while longer. Most people thought it wasn't safe to travel at night, but I thought that was bullshit. The walkers didn't care what time of day it was. They'd eat you the same at midnight as they would at two in the afternoon. For Christ's sake they were zombies, not vampires. I liked night better anyways. It was easier to go unnoticed. It was probably pretty late by the time I finally decided to stop for the night. I pulled my truck over onto the side of the road, hoping the trees would provide enough cover to go unnoticed. I planned on being out of here before the sun rose completely anyways. I didn't need much sleep to function. Being on your own, you had to learn to sleep with one eye open.

So I crashed for what I knew would only be a short while. When I finally got up, it was dark still but I could tell from the purple-ish hue of the sky that it wouldn't be that way for long. Pretty soon, the sun would be coming up and I'd be sweating my ass off. Damn Georgia heat. Too bad it didn't bother the walkers. All it did was make them smell pretty ripe. I ate a few handfuls of really dry Frosted Flakes before heading back out on the row. Not for the first, I wanted milk really badly. Which was weird, because before all of this I never ate cereal and I never even liked milk. I supposed that was me adapting or something like that. That's what they would say on the Discovery channel at least.

I had been driving for at least an hour when I spotted a car in the road up ahead and had to slow down. "Really?" I mumbled quietly to myself. Some jackass just had to abandon his car in the middle of the road? Of course. Even in an apocalypse people still couldn't be considerate. I was debating if there was enough room for me to go around without getting stuck in the muddy ditch when something in the back of my mind was triggered. I think it was the two tone paint of the car, or maybe the dice hanging from the rearview mirror. This looked a hell of a lot like the car that jackass was trying to steal back in the city. Looked like he hadn't gotten very far. My eyes slid over to the still ajar driver's side door. It was just hanging open. Something about it set me on edge.

"Son of a bitch." I let out a sigh. All I could picture in my head was this guy finally feeling the effects of all that blood he lost and crawling off into the woods to die. It wasn't my problem though. I knew I should just drive around the car and keep going. Not something for me to worry about. I didn't move, though. I still sat there staring at the open car door. A defeated groan finally escaped out of me. Why did I have to care? Why the fuck did I feel the need to be a god damn hero? I wasn't a paramedic anymore. It wasn't my job to save people. Still, that thought didn't stop me from putting my truck in park, shouldering my backpack, and hopping out.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note:**_

_Hello readers! Just wanted to take a minute to thank everyone for the feedback and support on my Merle story! So far, I've heard some really nice things. Also, if you haven't checked out my Daryl story and are a fan of the other sexy Dixon, go on and check it out. Before we get to the good stuff, I actually have another reason for posting this little here note and that is to ask for help. I know, I know...but hey I need it! If anyone would like to help me flesh out this story a little more and bounce ideas around with me, I'd appreciate it more than you know. I'm gonna admit I've run into a bit of a roadblock and need help getting around it. If you're interested in helping me out, shoot me a PM! Also...is it possible to change font sizes on this site or what? Okay that's all, I promise. Thank you again for reading. I appreciate you all so much! Keep the reviews coming! They keep me motivated. :D_

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**Harlow**

I peered carefully into the ditch on the side of the road, half expecting to see him lying there but it was empty. I crossed over it and started looking in the patches of trees closest to the road. Still, no signs of anyone. Well where the hell would he have gone then? I turned around, placing my hands on my hips. On the other side of the road were two abandoned looking farmhouses. They seemed kinda far for a guy who just lost half his blood to walk to, but it made sense he would try to get there. I headed towards the one closest.

I knew right away I had picked the right one. The moldy boards that had boarded up the outside of the house looked like they had just been torn off, lying scattered all over the sagging porch. I crept closer to the door and grasped the knob in my hand, turning it and slowly pushing the door open. The smell of mildew and rot hit my nose almost immediately. Ugh, it was disgusting. I really didn't want to go any farther inside but I had already gotten this far. I stepped inside the house and shut the door tightly behind me.

The floor creaked underneath me as I walked into the living room, taking note of the sheet covered furniture and broken television set. I had a feeling he was here somewhere and when I poked my head into the kitchen my hunch was satisfied. All the cupboards and drawers were drawn open, as if someone had been desperately and very carelessly searching through them. I searched the rest of the kitchen, opening the pantry door and the closet door but finding nothing. I moved back into the living room to head upstairs.

That's when I noticed a door right off the living room, closed but not closed all the way. I pressed my ear to the crack but couldn't hear a thing. I took a breath and pulled it open, basking the tiny little bathroom in the dim light that was coming in through the living room windows. The first thing I noticed was the blood, the dark red stains that had pooled together in the sink and smeared the countertop and toilet. The mirror was broken into a thousand pieces and glass shards were everywhere. Then of course was the man half hidden behind a moth eaten shower curtain in the bath tub.

"Holy shit."

I crouched onto the ground, leaning over the side of the tub. He was pale and thin beads of sweat clung to his forehead. I could see his chest moving just barely underneath his dirty white shirt. He looked unconscious, but when I gently touched his arm his eyes fluttered open for a second and looked right at me. I held his gaze, noting the vacant expression in his eyes before they shut again. He was in bad shape. To the point where I didn't even know if I could save him, but I had already decided I needed to try. I had come this far and sure as hell couldn't walk away leaving a man in a bathtub to die.

"Okay, I'm going to try and help you." I said quietly, not sure if he could even hear me. My fingers gently grasped the stump of his arm to see the skin was an angry looking red, yellow pus oozing from the wound. Infected. Badly.

I opened up the cabinet underneath the sink, hoping like hell I could find some sort of first aid kit. There was nothing, but I also had an entire house to look through. I stood back up, shrugging out of my jacket and tossing it to the floor before leaving the bathroom and taking the steps two at a time to the second floor. I found a second bathroom in between two bedrooms and charged inside, throwing open the cabinets and digging through the contents that had been left behind. Finally, buried in the back beneath a few raggedy bath towels was a dust covered first aid kit. I tucked it under my arm and headed back downstairs.

His eyes were still closed and if it hadn't been for the constant up and down motion of his chest, I'd almost think he wasn't alive. I knelt down next to the bathtub, setting the first aid kit on the closed toilet lid and pulling out a bottle of water from backpack. I reached down into the tub, gingerly lifting his forearm and poured a good portion of my water on the stump where his hand used to be. The infection was one of the worst I'd seen in a long time, which worried me. Cleaning it would help, but wouldn't change the damage that had already been done. I dug a tiny bottle of antiseptic out of the first aid kit and glanced wearily at the man. This shit was going to burn and I had no idea how he would react. I squeezed a small drop onto the wound and rubbed it in. Normally, this probably would have any other person puke. Luckily for me, I had seen my fair share of carnage and didn't mind.

"Jesus Christ, ya' tryin' to kill me? That hurts!"

I jumped about a foot in the air, losing my balance and falling into the wall. My heart pounded and stared at him wide eyed. Guess he wasn't as unconscious as I thought. I crept closer to the tub again.

"I'm...I didn't mean to." I started awkwardly.

"S'okay." He mumbled, his eyes still closed. I could tell from the sound of his voice that even though he was awake, he wasn't exactly all the way there.

"My name's Harlow...I'm not here to hurt you. You're just...Your arm, it's infected pretty bad. I'm trying to help you." I explained, keeping a close watch on him as I went back to cleaning the gaping wound. He flinched, but didn't say another word. I took some gauze from the first aid kit and wrapped it up as best I could. "This should keep it from getting anymore infected." I said. Even if he wasn't really listening, it made me feel better to explain what I was doing.

"You a doctor?" He asked in a gruff voice.

I shook my head. "Not exactly. Paramedic."

I watched as his slowly opened again and finally focused on me. He stared at me for a long second before taking me by complete surprise and laughing...although it sounded pretty weak which concerned me.

"What's so funny?"

"I guess it makes sense why it's you." He said. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "I mean, you was the last person I was thinkin' 'bout and now here you are. Like a god damn guardian angel."

He started laughing again and I decided to ignore it. He was clearly out of it, no idea what he was saying. I leaned forward and pressed the back of my hand to the skin of his forehead. He was on fire. I bit my lip nervously before turning back to the first aid kit and pulling out a pack of advil.

"I'm gonna need you to try and swallow these pills. I don't know how much it will help with the pain, but it's better than nothing. Plus, you have a pretty bad fever." I said as I tore open the pack with my teeth and emptied the two orange colored pills into my hand.

"Whatever you say, princess." He said before opening his mouth. I placed both pills into his mouth and he swallowed hard. I held his head in my hand as I brought the water bottle to his lips and he took a long sip, spilling some down his front.

I screwed the lid back on the bottle and sat back onto my knees with a sigh. It sucked because it was the least I could do. I didn't have any fancy medical machines or pills. Literally all I had to save a dying man was a backpack and a lousy first aid kit. I noticed the dried blood on his one good hand and remembered the smashed mirror. Now it made sense. I grabbed more antiseptic from the first aid kit and leaned over him to clean out the small, tiny gashes that covered the back of his hand and knuckles.

"As if you weren't in bad enough shape, you had to punch something." I murmured as I wiped away the dried blood.

"I was mad." He responded after a second.

I rolled my eyes. "Typical man."

"You know, you got some pretty nice fuckin' legs. Damn those things go on for miles." He suddenly said in his raspy voice.

I stopped wrapping the bandage around his hand for a second, caught off guard but shook it off quickly. "Maybe you shouldn't talk. Save your energy." I suggested. Normally, I would have slapped a guy across the face for saying something like that. I couldn't bring myself to hit a man who was already half dead. Plus, I still was 99% sure he had no idea what he was really saying.

"I bet you're fuckin' wild in bed."

I felt my eyes grow wide and I placed a finger over his mouth. "Okay, buddy. Time to be quiet. You need to rest." I said exasperatedly. I could feel my cheeks turning red and was glad his eyes were closed. "I'll be in the next room."

I waited, but he stayed quiet so I stood up and moved into the living room. I inspected the couch, debating on whether to keep the old, dust covered sheet on or off before I sat down. I decided I didn't trust what was underneath and collapsed on top of the white cover, stretching out. My thoughts wandered back to the man in the bathroom, who's name I didn't even know. Wait...that was a lie. I did know. I remembered back in the city him referring to himself as 'ole Merle'. I wrinkled my nose. What the fuck kind of a name was Merle? It sounded like the name of so backwoods old grandpa. Which, I guess, sort of fit him. He wasn't that old, but he did have that hick thing going on. And he was rude and vile.

Why was I trying to help him again?

I already knew that answer, though. It was because I was too damn fucking soft and couldn't stand to even see someone like that suffer and die. I didn't have it in me. Damn my bleeding heart. I let out another long sigh. I was going to have to move him sooner or later. If he stayed here, he'd be dead soon. While I really didn't like the idea of dragging him around with me, he needed help. More than I could give. I'd have to go looking for it. My eyes lingered on the open bathroom door. I'd move him in the morning. If he made it until then.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note:**_

_Okay so the feedback I got on the last chapter was incredible! So many new follows and reviews. It makes me very happy to see people enjoying my Merle world :). Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!_

_Reviews and messages keep me going! _

_3_

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**Harlow**

It was one of the longest nights I'd been through in a while. I didn't sleep well, getting up every couple of hours to check on the man clinging to life in the tiny bathroom. Every time I pulled open the door, I was afraid his body had finally given up on him and he was gone. He was tougher than most people, though, because every time I placed a hand on his chest I could still feel the faint beat of his heart as it struggled to keep him alive.

When the sun finally began to rise and the living room was filled with the faint yellowish glow of sunlight, I started getting ready to move Merle out. I ransacked the rest of the house, taking anything of use that had been left behind. Then, I had carefully pulled my truck up to the house and parked it just a few feet off from the front porch. The less distance I had to carry him, the better. He had been in and out of consciousness all morning. His fever was still blazing through his skin and though I got him to down a few sips of water, he wouldn't even take a bite of the cold, canned pasta I had opened for breakfast. I needed to find him some antibiotics and fast. I hurried. It didn't take me long to pack the truck and finally I was ready to try and get Merle on his feet.

"Okay, everything's good to go. We just gotta-" I stopped mid-sentence as I pushed open the bathroom door, my eyes growing wide as I eyed Merle. With the small, deadly looking pistol in his bandaged hand. "What are you doing with that?" I asked cautiously. I thought for a second he hadn't heard me, but then he started shaking his head.

"No use." He grunted. "Just gonna stay here and wait."

I slowly made my way closer to the tub, kneeling down on the floor. "Wait for what?" I asked quietly. I could tell by the glazed look in his eyes that he was out of it. I needed to get the gun out of his hand before he did something stupid. Christ, I didn't even know he had one on him! I should've fucking checked him for weapons. Idiot.

"Wait for Daryl." He answered. "Been thinkin' a bullet might make a fine last meal. Then I can just take a long nap. Wait for Daryl."

My pulse jumped as I realized what he meant to do. It wasn't gonna happen. I wouldn't let it. Whoever the hell Daryl was, Merle could wait for him here. Alive. I quickly reached out and tugged the pistol from his weak grasp. I shrank back, waiting for him to lash out at me, but he barely moved. Like I thought, he was pretty out of it. I wasn't even sure if any of this seemed real to him. "We're not waiting around here. We're going. I'm gonna find you help, but you need to stand up and try to walk. I'll help you." I didn't wait for him to respond and got to my feet, leaning over him. I grasped him firmly under the arms and pulled. Jesus, it was like trying to lift a ton of bricks. "Okay, Merle, you need to try to help me here. I can't carry you all by my god damn self." I said with gritted teeth. "Stand up." After a few seconds, he finally started to move, using the side of the tub to lift himself with his good hand. I helped him as best I could and finally, he was on his feet, though leaning heavily against the tiled wall. And fuck, that was the easy part. Now I had to somehow get him from the house to the truck. "You have to walk. Lean against me. It's not far."

I wrapped my arm tightly around his waist as he slung his arm over my shoulder. I carefully helped him out of the tub and onto the ground. "Fuck, woman. You're god damn small. How you expect to help me get anywhere?" He mumbled, using the wall to hold himself up as we left the bathroom and headed out the gaping front door. Once we were outside, I felt almost the full weight of him crushing against me and I thought my knees might give out. It was only a few feet away now. So close. So god damn close, I reminded myself. I managed to help him down the busted porch steps and finally, I was pushing him into the truck. Once I made sure he was all the way inside, I slammed the passenger side door and he slumped against the window.

I was panting heavily and my hair stuck to my skin as I tried to catch my breath. I hoped like hell we found help soon because I wasn't sure how many more times I would be able to move him like that. At least not without killing myself in the process. I shook my head, hopping into the driver's side of the truck. I gave Merle a worried glance before revving the engine and tearing out of the yard, towards the deserted road.

We drove for hours on the back country roads of Georgia. I was hyper aware of Merle's rattling breath as he struggled to keep pulling air in and out of his lungs. I realized how crazy this was. That I was risking my life to try and save someone who I didn't even know, and who hadn't given off even remotely the nicest impression during the moments he was awake. It wasn't that I had been lonely for other people, or missing human contact. No, I don't think that was it at all. I think what it came down to was that I suddenly had a purpose. Because before I had taken on trying to save a dying man, what the hell had I been doing? Nothing. Running from place to place, making my way south just because I didn't have anywhere else to go or anything else to do. Nothing. And now, I had something. At least it felt that way.

It was dark before I even had time to wonder how the day had passed so quickly. How the hell was there nothing around here? Where were all the towns? Where did the people that live out here get their groceries? Their supplies? Their freaking medicine? I hadn't seen one sign pointing me in the right direction of a town. I needed a pharmacy or a doctor's office. Some place where they kept antibiotics. Hell, even a veterinarian clinic would have done at this point. But no, there was nothing. Just farmland. Enough to make me feel sick to my stomach as rolling hill after rolling hill and golden pasture after golden pasture flew by us.

I could feel my eyes starting to get tired and even though I didn't want to stop, I had to. I had been doing nothing but driving for an entire day and the exhaustion was starting to swallow me whole. Merle had stopped muttering and mumbling as he swam in and out of awakeness hours ago, which worried me. He was quiet. I didn't like the feeling it gave me, like rocks piling in the pit of my stomach. I finally had to pull the truck over so I could shut my eyes, at least for a little while. Then we could keep going. I balled up my jacket to use a pillow and curled my legs up onto the seat next to me. I could feel the heat radiating off of Merle as I fell into a fitful sleep. His fever was getting worse.

I woke again just before dawn, a faint rosy hue in the sky as the sun prepared to rise. I hit the cab lights on so I could get a look at Merle. He was as pale as death, his skin damp with sweat. I prepared to change the bandage on his arm and almost gagged as I unwound the gauze and the horrible scent of the infection hit me. It was bad. Bad enough to where you wouldn't need any medical experience at all to tell this guy was in trouble. I shook my head as I quickly cleaned it as best I could and re-wrapped it.

"Hold on just a little longer." I murmured, pressing the back of my hand to his forehead. He didn't stir or fidget at my touch anymore, too weak to even feel it.

I turned the key in the ignition and pressed the gas pedal down as far as it could go. I had to find him help today or he wouldn't last much longer. Sooner or later, he would fade away completely. I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I kept my eyes peeled for any signs of civilization, the sun finally rising in the sky. Finally, though, I got my first taste of hope. Houses started popping up more and more instead of the farms and fields. They further I drove, the closer and closer together they would appear until soon, I was driving down what I was sure had once been a populated street. I could feel the hope growing and growing inside me as drove and finally, I was driving through a small, little town.

"Yes!" I slammed my palm against the wheel. This was what we needed. Towns had people, people needed medicine. There was a pharmacy here somewhere. There had to be. I slowed down as I scanned the weathered brick buildings lining the street. Walkers lingered here and there, but for once, they weren't my main concern. It didn't take long for me to pick out the faded, peeling sign plastered to a window, advertising seasonal flu shots. I combed the street, looking for a place to hide the truck since I couldn't take Merle inside with me. I spotted on alley to my right and swung inside, putting it into park. This would have to be good enough. I wouldn't be long anyways.

"Cross your fingers that this is it." I said quietly, more to myself than Merle. His eyes were still shut tightly and he seemed completely out of it. I gave him one last glance before hopping out of the truck, locking the doors behind me. I pulled my backpack out of the bed of the truck, shrugging it on. It was quiet, hardly any sounds aside from my own breathing. I took out my knife and held it tightly in my hand. Silence wasn't always a good thing. I knew there were still walkers out there, waiting. I stayed low to the ground as I edged my way around the corner and out of the alleyway. I pushed the door to the drugstore open and slipped in quietly.

It was a mess inside. Shelves were toppled, empty boxes and debris littered the floor. My heart sank. It looked the place had been ransacked about a thousand times over. I moved silently around the garbage in my path, making my towards the back of the store where I knew the pharmacy counter would be. The antibiotics would be kept in the back, not out on the shelves.

I carefully hopped up over the counter, dropping down silently on the other side. I could feel my hope plummeting. There was nothing. For the first time in a long time, I could feel panic stirring somewhere inside me. I rummaged through the empty cases and boxes on the shelves, pulled open drawers and cabinets, looked under counters and chairs. Nothing. Nothing was here.

"Fuck." I whispered, my voice cracking as the panic finally forced it's way through me and tears began to leak from the corners of my eyes. I sank down onto the floor, pressing my back up against a wall. I was watching the only plan I had fall to pieces. I betted everything I had on finding a pharmacy and getting him medicine. It was a damn good plan, but I forgot to factor in that the world is a fucking, horrible place and there were other people suffering too that had gotten here before me and now I didn't know what to do. The hot tears streamed down my face. How was I supposed to get back into that truck? How was I supposed to face that man knowing I had lost? That I had done everything I could and it still hadn't been enough? He was going to die and there was nothing I could do now. I couldn't save him.

It was the first time I had let myself cry in months and it didn't fit me. I hardly ever cried. When you grew up in a family of all men, you learned not to cry. Yet here I was. "Get it together, Harlow." I muttered to myself, wiping my cheeks with the sleeve of my shirt. I sniffed, waiting until the tears finally stopped. The hallowed pit in my stomach didn't go away, but at least I wasn't crying anymore. There was nothing I could do now except wait with him and do everything I could to make this easier for him. Which felt almost cruel of me. How do you make it more comfortable for someone to die?

I forced myself to my feet and picked up my backpack, it's lightness reminding me that I failed to do what I set out to do. I heaved one last sigh before heading back out towards the street. I pushed open the door a crack and squeezed through. Instantly, I felt a hand on my shoulder as I was dragged out onto the sidewalk and pushed against the side of the building.


	8. Chapter 8

**Harlow**

"What the fuck!" I shouted as a gun was shoved in my face. The man with his finger on the trigger was eyeing me dangerously. He was darker skinned, latino looking with a black, scruffy beard on his chin and cheeks.

"Watch your god damn mouth or I'll blow your head off." He spat at me. "What're you doing here?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell do you think you are?" I hissed. Now was not a good time to fuck with me and this guy shoving a gun in my face and demanding that I explain myself wasn't doing anything to improve my mood. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first gun happy jackass I had encountered. They were everywhere. The world goes to shit, the government crashes, and suddenly everyone thinks they can be in charge.

"I'm asking the questions. You alone?" He asked in a low voice.

"That's none of your business." I answered coldly. I could feel my knife pressed against my hip and wondered how fast I could pull it on him before he realized what was happening and put a bullet in me. Not fast enough, a voice in the back of my head warned me. Still, I wasn't going to wait around to find out what he wanted with me.

"Let her go, Martinez!" A voice came from somewhere behind the man with the gun.

He glared at me hard before lowering the barrell of the gun and stepping back. "Sorry, Governor."

"Are you alright?" The same voice asked. Calm, collected, concerned. A man suddenly stepped up on the sidewalk next to me, flanked by at least three others I hadn't seen before. He was tall with dark hair, his voice dripping with the charming facade of a southern gentleman. I'm assuming this was the "governor", as the other man had called him. "You'll have to excuse Martinez. We don't come across other survivors too often."

I eyed him apprehensively, still on edge. "Look, I don't want any trouble." I said slowly.

The governor put up both his hands, a sign of peace. "I don't want any either. We were just tryin' to look for supplies when Martinez swore he heard somethin' comin' from inside here. So I sent him to check it out…" He explained.

"Well I didn't find what I was looking for. So I'll just get out of here and you'll never see me again." I said curtly, adjusting my backpack on my shoulders.

"Maybe I can help...what was it you needed?" He asked, his tone implying friendliness, kindness. Something about it set me on edge. His man had almost killed me and now this guy was going almost over the top in an effort to help me. I wanted to turn my back right then and there and walk away. I thought about Merle in the truck, though. Suffering. If this man could help...well, I was desperate at this point.

I let out a sigh of defeat. "I need medicine. Antibiotics. I have someone with me. He's not gonna make it if he doesn't get help."

"He bit?" The Governor asked.

"No, I wouldn't have him with me if he was." I scowled. "He cut his hand off somehow, didn't say. He's lost a lot of blood and has one of the worst infections I've ever seen...I should know. I used to be a paramedic."

His eyebrows went up in surprise. "You're a paramedic?" He asked.

"Was." I corrected him.

He eyed me almost thoughtfully for a minute before speaking again. "You say you don't know how he cut off his hand? This is someone you haven't known very long." He wasn't asking, it sounded as if he was just stating something he already knew.

"No, I just found him a few days ago." I explained, wondering why any of this was at all important.

"You sure are goin' through an awful lot of trouble for a stranger." He commented good naturedly.

I sighed and fought the urge to roll my eyes, even though I had had the same thought about a dozen times over the past few days. "What can I say? I'm a god damn samaritan." I said dryly. I ran a hand through my hair before continuing. "Look, he was already in bad shape when I found him. I couldn't just leave him there to die. And now I'm desperate. So are you gonna help me or not? Because if not, I'm going." By now, the walkers in the street had started to notice our little gathering and were staggering closer. He nodded at his men who quietly turned and began to dispatch whatever walkers were in range. I watched them for a second, but turned my eyes back to the other man as he started talking.

"I want to help you and I think we can. I don't have any antibiotics with me, but we have a town not too far from here. With doctors, medicine, everything we need to fix your friend right up. You're welcome to come with us. Like I said, it isn't often we run into other survivors but we're always willing to take them in."

I furrowed my eyebrows togethers, wondering if I had heard him right. "Did you say…town?"

The Governor smiled at me. "Town, yes. You'll see. We have a nice little settlement, probably almost fifty people. And like I said, we have a doctor who would be more than happy to look at your friend."

I chewed my lower lip thoughtfully for a moment. It sounded almost too good to be true. It sounded an awful lot like there was going to be some sort of catch. But what other choices did I have? They had a real doctor and real medical supplies. If we went, Merle had a better chance of living. I nodded finally. "Okay, we'll come with you."

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, seemingly not noticing my flinch at his touch. "Good, glad to hear. Now just show me where your friend is and we'll leave right away. I'll have the men pull the trucks around."

"Follow me." I mumbled, turning and heading towards where I had hidden Merle and the pick-up. The truck was still sitting quietly in the alley and I quickly unlocked the passenger door. The injured man was still breathing, though he was looking worse and worse. I shared an uneasy look with the Governor. "I don't think he has much longer." I said quietly.

"I think you're right." He commented. "I'll grab the other men and we'll move him to one of our vehicles. I hope you're okay leavin' your truck behind, but it'll be too much of a hassle to have you follow us. The way there isn't the easiest."

I didn't like the idea of leaving my ride behind. The idea of being stranded somewhere unfamiliar without a quick getaway made me nervous. The governor must have caught the look on my face.

"Look, we have plenty of extra cars there. The minute your friend is better and you wanna leave, I can give you one. No problem." He offered.

I nodded slowly. "I don't think I have a choice." I sighed. "Let's move him. The sooner he gets to the doctor, the better."

"Agreed." The Governor grunted. He hurried off back to his men and I stayed with Merle, hoping like hell I was making the right call here. If it saved his life, it would be worth it. I hoped. It wasn't long before the Governor returned, Martinez and another trailing after him. They carefully lifted Merle out of the passenger seat and carried him to the back seat of a jeep parked in the street.

"You can ride up front with me." The Governor offered as he climbed up into the driver's seat. I gave one last worried glance at Merle and hopped up in front. Once everyone else was in their vehicles, we set off, a three car convoy as we drove through the abandoned streets. It was the first time I had let myself trust another person since the beginning of the outbreak. I had learned pretty quickly that trusting people now was harder than ever. This was breaking everything in my personal code book and a part of me wanted to throw myself out of the car and run off on my own again. I couldn't though because, quite stupidly, I had decided to tie myself to the well being of a complete stranger. I just hope he was worth it.

The drive was quiet and I was glad. It gave me time to think. Plus, I was still uneasy of the man sitting in the driver's seat next to me. Granted, he had saved my life and was doing me a monumental kindness by taking in Merle and I to his so called town. Something about him seemed off, though. His words and his actions didn't seem as genuine to me as they should have. It was like he had some ulterior motive behind everything he did.

I turned in my seat, craning my neck to try and get a look at Merle in the back. He was still out cold, sprawled across the seat as much as a man of his size could be. I could hear his rattling breathing which was both a good and a bad sign. It meant he was still alive, but for how much longer? I turned back around in my seat to stare out the windshield.

"Are we getting close?" I asked impatiently. I was chewing my lower lip with worry and realized I had broke through the skin when I could taste the bitter, iron taste of blood in my mouth. I wiped my lips with the sleeve of my jacket.

"Almost there. Another couple of miles. Don't you worry. We'll make it in time to save your friend." He said calmly, casting my a sideways glance. I nodded, but didn't say another word as the scenery outside the window continued to flash past in a blur.

The Governor was right, though, because it wasn't much longer before we turned the bend of a winding road and a long, menacing looking wall came into view. I stared at it, wondering how long it had taken to build it up. Not that it was much...just overturned busses and sheet metal. It was still pretty impressive looking. Not much was getting in to whatever this town was, which probably meant not much was getting out. Once again, I fought the urge to bolt from the car and take off. Instead, I gripped the sides of the seat with my hands and watched as the governor slowed to a stop right outside the giant wall and signaled to someone perched at the very top. Seconds later, the gates were pulled open slowly. We drove through them and I sat perched on the edge of my seat, a combination of nerves, curiosity and awe coursing through me as I got my first look at the Governor's town.

"Welcome to Woodbury." He said.


End file.
